


Oasis

by kaylennz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Love, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Sibling Incest, Sleepiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-21 23:38:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/603319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaylennz/pseuds/kaylennz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam loves a sleepy, aroused Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oasis

**Author's Note:**

> Moving works from LJ to here. I'm not overly prolific or popular so you may not have read this elsewhere :) I get little time to write...but I love to do so. And I adore these boys.
> 
> Thank you to Kasman for the beta.

Sam loves to watch Dean sleep. It surprises him sometimes, that odd mixture of tenderness and longing, protectiveness and arousal, it evokes within him. There's an innocence to Dean in slumber. When defenses are stripped away and held at bay by whatever dreams fill that stubborn, beautiful head of his. 

This time of night, the deepest and darkest hour before dawn is one of Sam's favorites. A quiet oasis within the chaos of their day. A special moment in time when it’s easy to believe that _this_ is the way things are meant to be. Always. 

That everything else is what's distant and unreachable.

Dean's on his back next to him, warm and heavy with sleep. He's taking up entirely too much space as usual, clad in a pair of black boxer briefs, and the occasional splash of freckles that are as familiar to Sam as any constellation. 

He's pressed close to Dean's side, propped up on his elbow, one of Deans arms effectively pinned and laid out behind him. It's a warm night, and the thin blanket they'd started with has long since been kicked off. Sam draws the pad of his middle finger lightly across his brother's collarbone, unsurprised by the lack of reaction. He draws the same feather light touch down the center of Dean's chest, stopping short at the waistband of his boxers and gets the same result. Deeply asleep, Dean doesn't stir at all. 

When he takes the same finger and circles a dusky, rose-colored nipple there's a subtle stutter in Dean's breathing. Sam pauses, disappointed when there’s no other reaction. He slowly gives the other nipple the same treatment, this time allowing the pad of his finger to repeatedly graze the tightened, sensitive nub. Furrowing his brow, Dean takes a deep breath and turns his head away from Sam, the strong line of his jaw outlined by the silvery blue moonlight that paints the room. 

Sam waits. Lets Dean sink and settle again. 

His next touch is to the shell of his brother's ear. He follows the delicate curve down to the strong column of throat, smiling affectionately at the soft, slightly annoyed snort-snuffle his brother makes. The arm that isn't trapped beneath Sam twitches, sliding upward. Sam reaches over and gently halts Dean's progress to the hilt of the blade beneath his pillow. Lovingly strokes his thumb over the pulse point of his brother's life in reassurance, whispering words they show each other in a thousand different ways but are too fragile to withstand the light of day. 

Lightly nuzzling the patch of skin beneath Dean's ear with his nose, Sam trails the tip of one finger along the waistband of his brother’s briefs, anticipating the slight flinch he gets when he skims a known yet fervently-denied ticklish spot. 

Dean's briefs are close fitting, the way he prefers, snug but not tight. Watching his brother's profile for any reaction, Sam trails the pad of his finger along sleepy, easily aroused flesh. When his touch elicits a faint twitch that’s more instinctual than interest, he applies more pressure, stroking downward, cupping Dean's balls through his boxers - teasing with light fingertip caresses. 

The stimulation has the desired effect. Dean tosses his head back towards Sam, body beginning to stir, legs parting slightly in an unconscious attempt to allow Sam better access. Sleepy confusion wars with latent arousal as Dean wavers between the welcome oblivion of sleep and the slowly spreading warmth of promised pleasure. 

It’s this base, in-between place that Sam loves. Where Dean simply responds to every feather-light touch, unaware of the breathless, barely-there noises he's beginning to make in the back of his throat, and how _fucking hot_ Sam finds the sheer vulnerability of it.

He feels himself hardening against the outside of Dean's thigh, even as the skin he's stroking through the boxers tightens and draws closer to his brother's body. Fingertips dance over his brother’s slowly filling shaft from base to tip, subtle and teasing, luring Dean closer to the surface.

Sam ups the ante a little and leans forward, swirling the tip of his tongue around a peaked nipple and then covers it with his mouth, gently sucking enough blood to the surface to ignite a lifeline of arousal straight to his brother's groin. Dean's panting softly as Sam withdraws, blows a smooth caress of air over moistened, pebbled flesh. 

He can feel Dean reaching for consciousness, but it’s sluggish and slow. Sleepy. 

Done with subtlety, Sam palms Dean's erection in a downward stroke. His mouth hovers over Dean's and when his brother's lips part in a gasp, its Sam's air he breathes. 

Sam dips in for a long lazy sweep of his tongue, pulls back, watches as Dean tilts his head up and back, searching for more. When Sam cups him through his boxers this time, his touch is firm, purposeful. Dean's hips hitch in a slight stutter and a low deep-throated moan fills the space between them. The arm trapped beneath Sam flexes, reaching for him. Dean's hand a warm heavy weight between his shoulder blades.

"Sssssaaammy." His voice is a whisper of breath, body begging for a release that his mind hasn't quite caught up with yet. 

"Here," Sam laps at Dean's lips, sensual swipes across the poutiest, sexiest fucking mouth he's _ever_ seen. "Right here, baby," he whispers.

Dean's lips part in anticipation of more, but Sam holds back. He loves Dean like this, compliant, reactive, wordlessly begging Sam to give him what he needs. Trusting him to do so. 

"Come for me," Sam's says as his fingers slip inside Dean's briefs and he wraps his large, warm hand around the tip of his brother's erection, sliding slowly downward over velvety, smooth-as-steel skin with the _perfect_ amount of pressure. 

Sam swallows the broken whimpery moan as Dean arches his back, bucking sluggishly into his hand. And that? That hot, helpless sound? More than enough to push him right over the edge as well. 

Dean's slick under his hand, chest rising and falling, returning Sam's kiss with lazy focus as his fingers comb through the soft hair at the nape of Sam’s neck.

Sam reaches for the towel next to the bed, not like he'd planned this or anything, and wipes them both down. Dean somehow manages to keep his briefs dry and Sam gently tugs them back into place before cupping Dean's jaw, thumb settling in the dip beneath Dean's lip. His brother has yet to fully open his eyes, but Sam knows he's mostly awake.

"Decent people are trying to sleep,” Dean chides tiredly, turning on his side, back to Sam.

Sam takes it for the invitation it is and spoons behind him. "I'm sure they are...somewhere." 

Dean snorts and grabs the arm Sam has wrapped around his waist, tugging it over his heart and lacing their fingers together. "Sleep freak."

"Shut up," Sam's voice too affectionate to be taken seriously. "You love it." Dean indulges his sleepy orgasm kink just as Sam indulges his brother's shower stalker kink.

In response, Dean takes his time bucking and squirming his way to a more comfortable position, in the end pressing himself impossibly close to Sam and readjusting the pillow under his head several times.

"You done?" he asks in mock annoyance when his brother finally gives a contented sigh and actually snuggles into Sam's warmth.

"Fuck off," Dean says. 

Sam smiles, 'cause tired and pissy as the words are, there's also a definite undercurrent of _I love you_ there that his brother doesn’t even try to mask. 

“Go back to sleep,” Sam whispers into the back of his neck. 

“Why? So you can molest me again?” Dean’s already half out, but can’t resist being contrary. 

“Sleep,” Sam croons, stroking the skin over Dean’s heart with his thumb until his breathing evens out once again. 

Sam loves watching Dean sleep.

End

**Author's Note:**

> Totally new to this site. Hope I posted okay for my first time :) If you enjoyed at all I would love to know. Thanks for reading!


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